


I Smile Then...

by ScaredCyclops



Category: Original Work
Genre: Affection is in the details - Freeform, And angst, Angst, BoyxBoy, Breakfast, But also crying - Freeform, But also lots of not sleeping - Freeform, But also rip them - Freeform, But not really theyre great, But there's also so much love, Children ruining lives - Freeform, Cute, Cute Boys Doing Cute Things, Did I mention tears, Fluff, Fluff and stuff, Gay, Grumpy boys hate morning boys, He's crying, I actually don't have names for these boys - Freeform, I don't know what else to put here, I feel like boy number one is a fan of greenday, I'll mkae a lot of worries in this, I'll tag as I go, I'll try more if this goes well, I'm bad at tags, I'm crying, I'm so tired, Kinda, Lack of sleep makes for grumpy days - Freeform, Lots of Crying, M/M, Males in love - Freeform, Morning boys - Freeform, Not literally, Poor little grumpy boys - Freeform, RIP me, Rejection, Sleep, So much angst, So yeah, Tear sweater - Freeform, Tears, That would be major.character death, We all drown in tears, We're all crying, Which leads to more crying, With matching tear pants, Wow I spell good - Freeform, and sleep, but not really, but really, i cry, it's sickening, lots of sleep, mostly from me, my heart hurts, so many tears, so much crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaredCyclops/pseuds/ScaredCyclops
Summary: Just some fluffy goodness between two poor lonely lads.Actually there's more angst in this than there is in all of MCR's existence.I don't know if i'll go on with this, lets see how this part goes.





	I Smile Then...

Affection is in the details. He always used to say this. I held onto it because I thought it was sweet and cliche then. Now...Now I can't get it out of my head. The way he said the words as that annoying half crooked toothy smile of his always slipped onto his lips. He would always chuckle after saying it. And he only said it whenever he brought me something I wanted but didn't ask for. He knew me so well. He always knew. Always. He never cried over spilled milk. Yet all at the same time, I saw him cry over more things than I had the energy to count. He always smiled when he saw me, or when we talked on the phone, he told me he did. He thought about me a lot. And smiled when he did. He told me that too. He never let me get hurt and if I did, he was just as upset as I was. He treated me like a king; a god. He never lied to me. He never offended me. He was a smart ass but in the cute way that meant no harm and made me laugh every time. He smiled a lot. He laughed a lot. He was happy. He always told me he loved me. He always said I was the best thing that happened to him. He always let me know I was perfect. He protected me. He put me before him. He called me Prince. And Love. He called me beautiful. He told me I shined brighter than the sun and that I should never change. He told me I made him a better person and that he would be lost without me. He Loved me. 

He loved me. 

He Fucking Loved me!

~

And I love him. I love him. So much. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He always makes me feel like I can do anything I want. He makes me feel warm when I think about him and I smile. I like to call him for no good reason and just listen to his voice as he talks about his overly boring day. I love him. When I see him, I smile and feel ten times better than I did. When the weather is bad, he makes me feel loved when he wraps a blanket around me. I smile when he does that too. I like to curl up on the couch and watch films with him and just be happy. I like to cook with him. I like to just stare. A corny, soppy, dopey grin plastered on my face, as I stare. At him. I feel loved when I'm with him. I love him. I do. I like to come home to him after a rough day at work and then he just knows. I feel warm when he comes up to hug me and doesn't say a word. I feel like I can do anything I want when he pulls away and just looks at me like he understands because he does. Without saying a word, he knows. I smile. I smile because I know too. I know and I love the fact I do. I love him.

I love him

I fucking love him.

~

If only I could have seen all that before. But its too late now. I can't say any of that to him now. I was too late, always too late. Too late to the first date, where he had been waiting for three hours before I showed my face in that park at nearly nine o'clock at night on a very cold January evening in the middle on the week. Too late for the second date, where I forgot all together and never showed up to that ice rink because a friend came over that morning to play video games. Too late for the first anniversary, where he called me and told me to meet him there, and I got excited, but I met a few friends at that carnival and forgot to meet him at the Ferris wheel. I was too late. Always too late. And it kills me. It kills me because I had chance after chance to make him happy like he so dearly wanted me to be. It kills me to think that I could have simply reached out and he would have been mine for as long as I would keep him. It kills me every time. I cry too. I let myself go and just sob into pillows and blankets and my hands because I had the chance. But I never took it. 

Because I didn't think I could love him. I couldn't love him because I wanted to be free. I couldn't love him because what was stabbing me in the back looked so much more interesting than what was ahead. I couldn't love him because he was my friend. I couldn't love him because I was busy living a shitty life that I called 'Wild'. I couldn't love him. And that's all I knew. I couldn't love him because I couldn't. No real reason but my own misguided idea of right and wrong. I couldn't love him because it wasn't normal and I wanted to fit perfectly into this world. I couldn't love him because I was too into my own selfish thoughts of becoming something great, that the thought was never an option.

But when anyone else looked at it. When anyone else saw it as what it really was, I couldn't love him because I was scared. I was scared that if I fell in love, that I might not get out and then I'd be stuck. And that terrified me. I couldn't love him the way he loved me because I didn't want the looks, the stares, the judgment. I was afraid so I took what I could've had; Love, Desire, Happiness, everything I ever wanted. I threw it all away because I couldn't stand the thought of what might have happened. And what might have happened, happened anyway. In the end, they all knew. They all stared, and they all judged. I lost what I thought I wanted with one moment of time where my dream faded into my nightmare.

That's where the rest of my forever starts. Right in the middle of my own personal Hell; everyday walking through the fire, keeping a straight face as the flames licked at my skin; burning and touching while I feel nothing but the sobs clawing up my throat and shattering my closed jaws just to face the outside world with little mewls and whimpers that slip through my lips. I break down then. I break down when I think of what I could have had. What could have been. And as I sit there and cry my life away, sobbing until all my tears dry and I'm left shaking and exhausted, thinking about everything we could have been.

But by far, the worst part of my awful days is when I lay down to sleep. Because to sleep is to dream and he's all I dream about. He's all I see. I dream of what it would have been to walk down the isle; to say 'I do' and hear it. I dream of what it would have been to freshly come out of the shower with just a towel on and flirt while we got ready for bed; to embrace. I dream about what it would have been to kiss him under the mistletoe while our kids ring out a chorus of 'Ewwws' and run to hide because “They Kissed! That's gross!” I dream of what holidays and birthdays, weekends and weekdays would have been like. I dream of our life, our perfect life together. I dream of him. But it's all just a dream; and it breaks me down every night. 

And then, I wake to start another horrible day in my shitty life that has gone to Hell, get dressed, and walk downstairs to the smell of bacon and eggs, toast and pancakes, orange juice and syrup.

And I Smile Then...


End file.
